


Compensation

by chekov



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, M/M, Top!Chekov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7881919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chekov/pseuds/chekov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Vice President of a tech startup, Sulu can't afford to appear unprofessional around his husband Chekov, which leads him to unintentionally overworking Chekov. In retaliation, Chekov attempts to show Sulu what it's really like to be sore after a long day at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compensation

**Author's Note:**

> This fic evolved most curiously. It started off as being office au with UST > angsty??? office au??? > gratuitous sex. Sorry.

 

 

“Mr. Chekov, are the reports ready?” 

From his desk across the room, Chekov looks up with an irritated look and huffs out a reply. “I assure you it _will_ be done before the day ends, Mr. Sulu."

“Lunchtime,” Sulu raises his voice. “I want it to be done by the time I get back from lunch."

“That is in two and a half hours, Sir. I am still waiting for documents from the legal team about using these sets of codes for our project."

“Then make them deliver these documents quicker.”

“Sir, I request permission for assistance with this task.”

"You will get these done. When I get back from lucnh. Mr. Chekov." He says slowly.

Sulu glances up from his paperwork when there comes no reply, and he sees Chekov trembling in his seat. He resists the urge to cross the room and throw an arm across his shoulder, to pat his back in encouragement because Chekov looks like he needs that more than anything.

But they’re already walking a thin line by holding onto their jobs in the same company after their marriage, let alone in the same department. Sulu has to maintain some self control. If he somehow makes it seem like he's exercising some form of favouritism towards Chekov, it wouldn’t be fair to the other employees. 

“Yes, sir,” replies Chekov after a moment, and before long he’s back to typing furiously on his computer and pointedly avoiding Sulu’s line of sight, and Sulu can’t take back his words. All he can do is sigh and head off to his next meeting.

 

***

  

That night, as Chekov rolls off Sulu’s damp, warm skin onto his back, he groans aloud. “You really work me too hard, Hikaru."

“Oh, come on, you barely put your back into it,” pants out Sulu with a laugh, still coming down from his high. Chekov rolls his eyes, although it’s true that he had only fucked himself half-heartedly on Sulu’s cock, every bounce sending a dull pain up his back despite Sulu’s knees bracing him from hip to shoulder.

He scoots closer and drape himself along Sulu’s side, resting his head on his collarbone and lightly biting the skin there, as if in anger. “No, not this. I meant in the office."

“Oh.” Sulu pauses. “Don’t you like having work to do? I thought you hated wasting time."

“That is true, but that does not mean I enjoy being worked until my head hurts."

“Your head hurts?” Sulu asks, his drowsy, well-fucked voice sounding suddenly alarmed. “The front or back part of it? Because pains around the frontal area could mean too much strain, such as on the eyes, and —"

“It’s fine now,” huffs Chekov as he bats away Sulu’s hands on his shoulders. “If you’re this worried why don’t you show the same consideration at the office?"

The breath that Sulu lets out ruffles Chekov’s curls, and he runs his fingers through them in apology. “I — I’m just trying to be, well, professional."

“Professionalism is not equal to dictatorship."

“…Is that really what it feels like, Pavel?"

Chekov groans and buries his face in Sulu’s chest. “ _Yes._ You wouldn’t even let me get help from other departments. I know I am smarter than most, but I can only do so much at once, physically."

Sulu’s smirk is predatory. “I can prove you wrong right now."

“I am being serious here, Hikaru.”  Chekov wilts with a heavy sigh, prompting Sulu to scoot away to peer down at his face.

“Hey, Pavel? Look, I’m sorry, but I just — you know I can’t treat you differently, right?"

"You already do!” he protests, shoulders starting to shake. “You treat me… you’re harsher on me than anyone else in the office. You push me too much, too often, and I’m — I’m tired, Hikaru. You don’t hear it because you never join us for lunch break, but they talk about it."

"What —“ Sulu starts to pull further away to calm Chekov’s sudden emotional outburst, but he grips Sulu’s biceps almost desperately. “Who talks about it? I’ll give them an earful about minding people’s business —"

“It does not matter, especially if you’re trying to seem impartial towards me.” grumbles Chekov. “I feel like you forget about whatever happens at work here, on this bed, and you make all kinds of promises but you’re the same the next day, and I’m — I —"

Sulu knows that what he does next is inadequate to soothe Chekov, just like most things these days lately. But he doesn’t know what else to do other than lean down and press his lips onto Chekov’s, insistently at first, as if he is trying to convey all the apologies and transmit every soothing words he can think of through actions. He rubs Chekov’s back slowly, feeling the ripple of muscles underneath his hand and the thought of Chekov being worked to near tears makes Sulu groan in regret. 

“This is not going to solve anything,” gasps out Chekov, but he’s clawing at Sulu’s already disheveled black hair, the slightly coarse black strands pressed tight between his fingers. “Damn you, Hikaru."

“I’m sorry, I’m — _uhnn, god —_ so sorry,” Sulu moans out as Chekov scrambles up to straddle Sulu’s hips, back arched so he can continue his assault on Sulu’s lips and neck while rolling his hips. “Never want to hurt you, never, never."

Chekov’s hands run up and down Sulu’s sides, making him moan wantonly and Chekov pulls back a little to hover his lips over Sulu’s. “Are you sure — _haa_ — about that?"

“Fuck,” Sulu frames Chekov’s face with his hands carefully, his touch soft but insistent. “You believe me, right? You don’t think I’m doing this to hurt you, do you?"

The small laugh of relief Sulu lets out when Chekov’s eyes turn soft is almost embarrassing, and he whimpers when Chekov lightly kisses his lips — fleeting touches and small, bone-melting licks.

“I know. You hate it so much, when I’m hurting."

“I do."

Chekov takes Sulu’s right hand away from his face and kisses the tips of his fingers lightly. “I know, but sometimes you do it without knowing."

“Fuck, I’m so—“ but Sulu is quickly shushed with a finger on his lips, Chekov’s tongue lapping lightly at his earlobe. Sulu groans, his hips canting upwards on their own accord and rubbing his erection on Chekov’s as he stays pinned to the mattress. His hands are scrambling, trying to find purchase on Chekov’s pale, smooth skin. 

“Let me show you what it’s like to be sore after a long — day — at work,“ Chekov bites his ear playfully, as if asking for permission, and Sulu wants to laugh at the proposition but Chekov’s wandering hand on his ass is making him moan in anticipation instead.

“You’re forgetting that I’m a VP of a startup tech company’s IT department. I think I know what it’s like to be — _ow_."

Chekov grins from where his teeth has sunk into Sulu’s shoulder, licking across the spot to soothe it. “Shut up. Do you want to have rough sex or not?"

“What the shit,” pants out Sulu as Chekov starts to draw back, reaching out for the lube. “What have you done to my sweet little Pasha?"

Chekov just laughs, twirling the tube of lube in his hands. “On second thought…"

Sulu gets his breath knocked out of him when Chekov flips him onto his stomach, possessive hands on the curve of each asscheek as Chekov purrs, seemingly content with the way events are folding. “So pretty, Hikaru,"

“Pavel, what are you —“ Chekov drags his hips upwards so that his ass is in the air, and Sulu breathes out through his teeth.

“I want to try something."

Nothing prepares Sulu for the way Chekov spreads his cheeks out to lap at his hole, Sulu crying out in surprise and pleasure. He knows Chekov is far from an innocent angel — they’ve been married for a year and a half, after all, with four years of history before that — but Chekov has never taken an initiative like this. 

“Is this okay?” Chekov asks, and Sulu just answers with a long groan. He takes this as a yes and licks at the rim again, swirling around the puckered skin before dipping into Sulu’s hole.

“Oh my — _shit,_ that is so good, Pavel,” he gasps when Chekov pulls back, only to slide his tongue back in. “Don’t stop."

Chekov himself is starting to moan now, voice muffled as his head is buries in Sulu’s ass. Sulu starts to rock back on Chekov’s tongue, wanting to come on just this — being eaten out by his husband after coming only several minutes before.

Chekov pulls out, and Sulu starts to whine in protest. He quickly shuts up, though, when he feels cold fingers replacing the wet hot tongue, tracing his already slightly stretched hole. 

“Just get it done, please, I need you —“ Sulu’s begging is interrupted by Chekov flipping him onto his back again, and Sulu’s voice catches at the back of his throat when he looks up at Chekov’s face. “— right now."

His face is so full of love, but dark with desire as well that Sulu can’t help but reach up and bury his own burning cheeks in Chekov’s neck. “God, how did I get so lucky?"

“You know the saying ‘You get what you deserve?’” Chekov asks nonchalantly, as if he hasn’t got two fingers shoved up Sulu’s ass. “Yeah? Maybe you’re lucky because you’re so perfect. Me, I am the lucky one, getting all — _this —_ because of your perfection."

Chekov is starting to babble, and Sulu has to stifle a laugh out of himself. “You’re ridiculous, getting sentimental. But I remember you saying something about rough sex —"

Whatever he has to say melts into a puddle of groans and cries as Chekov finds Sulu’s prostrate with a third finger, massaging the spot until Sulu’s hips are undulating in an upward motion, desperate for Chekov’s erection. He thinks he’s so close to coming like this but he’s desperate for Chekov’s cock. He reaches out between them to place a hand around it.

“I want you in me, now — _Pasha.”_ Chekov bats his hand away from his erection and grabs hold of his wrists, pinning them upwards as if he’s been tied to the bedposts.

“I don’t remember letting you make the calls,” but he does pull apart Sulu’s thighs with his other hand — a tricky job considering Chekov’s slightly smaller frame — and lines himself up. 

“Please, come _on_ ,” urges Sulu when Chekov only rubs his head around his stretched hole. 

“I’ll listen to you if you promise to listen to _my_ complaints in the office.” He pushes in shallowly, only to pull back. “Deal?"

“Fuck — _deal,_ whatever you want, Pavel, just get on with it."

“Bossy, _da_ , as expected of the VP,” jokes Chekov before he enters in one quick slide, making both of them moan out loud. Sulu mutters a silent thanks once again for the apartment’s soundproofed walls. 

Chekov remains in Sulu for a while, letting him adjust around his cock. “You’re so tight, Hikaru."

“You don’t fuck me often enough,” he laughs. 

“That’s true,” Chekov leans back, hands braced on Sulu’s knees. “Let’s make this one worth it."

He pulls out, only to thrust back in so quickly and so hard that Sulu can’t help but shout. Chekov sets an unforgiving pace from the start, his hips rolling to get his cock as deep as it can go in Sulu’s ass, their skin slapping against each other as Chekov sloppily mouths at Sulu’s neck. Sulu throws his head back as Chekov just grazes against his prostate, giving better access for Chekov’s tongue to lick stripes across his neck.

“More — _harder,”_ he moans, and Chekov does. He speeds up, little noises of _ah, ah, ah,_ pouring out of his lips along with _Hikaru_  and a string of Russian curses Sulu has become familiar to during sex. Then Chekov pushes his legs up, palms insistent on the back of his knees to open Sulu even wider and suddenly Chekov’s cock is reaching deep within Sulu and hitting the right spot, pressing against Sulu’s prostate over and over again that he moans long and loud, the feeling of being filled by Chekov so satisfying and hot that he’s only seconds away from finishing. 

“Yes, _yes,_ right there, god, don’t stop,” he shudders. Chekov reaches down to tweak one of Sulu’s nipples as he murmurs a possessive-sounding _mine,_  his thrusts becoming so erratic that Sulu’s head is bumping up against the headboard with every push into his ass. 

“Sit up,” orders Chekov, and Sulu scrambles backwards while pulling Chekov with him, reluctant to have him pull out even for a second. When Sulu’s got his head resting against the headboard, Chekov grips his hips in a bruising hold and thrusts in harder than before. Sulu can only loll his head around, watching Chekov’s gaping mouth with unfocused eyes, needing nothing more than Chekov to come in him. His back feels raw, being pushed upwards against the headboard with every thrust, but all Sulu wants is for Chekov to give him more.

“Love you,” pants out Chekov as he snaps his hips forwards for a particularly hard thrust, and Sulu comes, white spurts on Chekov’s chest. Before he can think about it, he pushes Chekov backwards so he falls onto his back and sinks himself down further onto his cock, thighs shaking from overstimulation as they frame Chekov’s thighs. 

“You’re — so — amazing like this, Hikaru,” Chekov says almost reverently, though he is probably just drunk on arousal. Sulu laughs, bouncing harder in Chekov’s lap and clenching around his cock, while Chekov reciprocates, snapping his hips up impatiently, like he can’t get inside Sulu deep enough.

“Baby, come for me,” and Chekov growls, one hand on Sulu’s hip and the other curled tight in his hair, pulling him down for a kiss as Chekov empties himself in Sulu, hips spasming upwards as he rides out his orgasm. Sulu groans into Chekov’s wet mouth, the feeling of being filled by Chekov almost enough to get him hard again.

As Chekov’s breathing slows down and their kissing has mellowed out to slow making out, Sulu pulls himself away from Chekov’s cock, hissing when drips of come leaks out of his hole.

“That’s very hot,” says Chekov so matter-of-factly that Sulu has to bark out an incredulous laugh. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he repeats. Chekov grins and scoots closer to nip at Sulu’s jaw and bury his face in his chest. 

“Sorry if that wasn't rough enough for your liking. Maybe next time, when I am not so worn out."

“Don’t apologise, it was — so — _amazing_ ,” Sulu groans into Chekov’s curls, like the memory of only a few minutes past pains him. “Already getting hard thinking about a next time."

Chekov snorts, his hand drifting towards the small of Sulu’s back in soothing strokes. “Let’s just get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us."

“Okay, okay.” Sulu relents, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. “I love you, and I’m sorry if, you know, I’ve made work harder for you. Unintentionally."

“Unintentionally,” Chekov says, smiling, before he quickly drops off to sleep.

 

***

 

“Mr. Chekov, are the reports ready?"

“Yes sir, just as you asked,” Chekov dumps the large folder on his desk in a triumphant manner. “I commend Mr. Smith for his assistance. He was able to speed up the process considerably in the financial section of the report, sir."

“Wonderful. Great work, Mr. Chekov, and extend my gratitude to Mr. Smith."

“Any reward for my stellar performance, sir?"

Sulu’s head snaps up in alarm, even though his room is completely closed off from the rest of the of the office and Chekov’s expression being one of sweet innocence. Sly.

“Before I can reward you with anything, I believe you have some unfulfilled promises made to me, Mr. Chekov."

Chekov gives him a wicked smile, and Sulu swallows. 

“I will settle this promise gladly, sir."

 

 


End file.
